Personal Journal of Sara Pezzini
by Ivy Gort
Summary: Entry 3-Legion is now uploaded.
1. Entry 1

Disclaimer: I've only seen the show. I have not read the comics. I can only go by the little bit of information the show has supplied. If I get something wrong, that is in the comic book, please forgive me.  
  
  
Personal Journal of Sara Pezzini  
  
Entry 1  
  
Okay so I know that it is a bad idea to keep a journal. A written record of the events and thoughts when you know you are going to be breaking the law on a regular basis. But, if I don't start trying to make order of my confusion then I will go crazy! So here it is the first entry in the diary of a mad woman.  
  
  
Am I going crazy?  
  
I must be nuts or at least slightly nuts.  
  
There is no other explanation for the things I've seen...the things I've done.  
  
The WitchBlade. Yeah, right.   
  
I just have one question: is it evil?  
  
Well, okay two questions: is it alive?  
  
After I dispatched those clone guys I thought for sure Jake was going to know my secret. I couldn't look him in the eyes. I just kept my head down while I was releasing him and then I had to take off and leave him with the mess.  
  
I know forensics' is going to have another field day with all those blade wounds on the bodies. But, to my defense I might be able to claim that some of them were the results of their own weapons.  
  
I was cuffed to that chair, just like Jake was and yet how do I explain escaping? How do I explain the bodies? I just know that the rat squad is going to be all over those guys! Oh, and let's not forget "The Captain" he's going to fry my butt.  
  
Danny's was just here. I could feel him watching me from the window. He's got that patient aura around him-I don't know if that comes from being dead or being the wise Asian master.  
  
But I exploded! I went off on him.  
  
"Just what the hell are you doing here!" I shouted at him. And it actually seemed to have an affect because he cringed backwards away from me. But he recovered quickly.  
  
"I thought you would want to talk about it." He said simply, calmly. Even when he was alive he would let me be the emotional one, would let my half-Irish temper blow-up and he would just ride out the storm.  
  
He was my rock.  
  
"I still am," he told me, reading my mind.  
  
"God I hate it when you do that!" I screamed back at him, but the smile was already tugging at the corners of my mouth.  
  
"Sara, I came to tell you nothing is going to happen to you because of tonight."  
  
I was totally confused by that, one how did he know, and two this was just the kind of the captain had been waiting for-I know he's wants me gone.  
  
"I know you are confused. But, remember everything is connected." Then he was gone again.  
  
Even in my confusion I knew he was right. Somehow, some way, all those bodies, dead men that I killed, were going to be swept away. I wouldn't have to deal with their deaths in court, just in my own conscience.  
  
I realized at that moment that I was using the idea of the rat squad breaking down my door and The Captain, and even Jake to avoid looking closely at my actions.  
  
I wanted to kill those guys. Yes, the adrenaline was pumping, yes I was afraid for my life, and yes they gave me no choice-but still I wanted to fight them. I wanted to feel that high I got from fighting and beating all those guys in the theater.  
  
I wanted blood.  
  
Or did I?  
  
Was it the blade?  
  
"Sara, you've always been an action junkie," Danny's voice intruded on my thoughts. "But, you never wanted to kill. And you didn't this time."  
  
Again there is truth in Danny's words.  
  
No, it was act and react.   
  
I feel better about tonight. I hope I can sleep.  
  
I know I have a huge fence to mend with Jake....  
  
And I still don't know what this thing on my wrist is or what its intentions are....  
  
All I want right now is to get one night of sleep with out the dreams.  
  
  



	2. Entry 2

Entry 2  
  
So this thing has some perks.  
  
God I can't believe that guy was so forward as to introduce me as his wife!  
  
So what does this scrap of metal want me to believe? That I was the fair Cathain and he is or was, god this is so confusing, my lover Conchobar?  
  
I had to admit that as I walked into the bar and saw him for the first time that there was an attraction. I kept getting these flashes of the two of us either making love or fighting.  
  
Well Danny, oh wise Asian master what do you make of that? Your student associates fighting with love.  
  
For some reason Danny doesn't decide to appear.  
  
Then last night...oh wow, were those dreams hot!  
  
Damn it the phone's ringing.  
  
****  
  
  
I think I'm addicted to this thing, this keeping a record of my thoughts. It helps sort out the confusion.   
  
Anyway, Dante called me over the fire for not realizing that the DB at the scene yesterday was already dead.   
  
It's like duh, captain, I wanted to say, she might have been a body from the morgue but we all know that those kind of freaks turn into killers.  
  
But, I know the real reason I didn't say anything; it's the blade. I get these flashes, most of the time it's from the victim. The pain, the fear, they have right after they realize they are going to die and right before the peace of acceptance.  
  
I don't know it's kind of hard to put into words. See when you, and by you, I mean the universal you, not you in first person.... When you first realize that you are going to be murdered your adrenaline starts pumping and its all fight or flight reaction. Then when you can't escape, you can't fight, you are about to take the bullet, the knife, whatever, it's all grief. You don't want to die; you want to see your lover or your mother or your best friend one last time. You would give your own soul to just tell the person you love good-bye.  
  
Then after you are shot, people rarely die right away, you realize there is nothing you can do about it so you might as well enjoy the ride.  
  
Acceptance.  
  
The problem with most crime scenes is that the grief, anger, fear, hang over it like a black cloud. I would feel the residue emotions before this chunk of tin decided to take up permanent residence on my wrist. Now those emotions are broadcast to me loud and clear because of this thing.  
  
Was I trying to make a point here, somewhere?  
  
Oh, yeah, Dante.  
  
What could I tell the captain? That I knew the body had been mutilated after the fact as soon as I walked into the crime scene? I knew this because I didn't feel the "normal" emotions emanating from the body? Yeah, right, just take me to the shrink this second and put me on the one way train off of the force.  
  
So what could I tell Dante? That instead of getting flashes from the victim like I normally do, I was getting them from the future killer? That I know he, the killer, is following Conchobar's song? And will kill someone soon?  
  
***  
  
Breathe. That's what Danny told me. Just breathe.  
  
As I told Danny, I had fifty cases, well early this morning it grew to fifty-one.  
  
Dante looked at me as he handed me the report of the latest victim. I think he was expecting a smart retort or a smug glance that I was right and he was wrong.   
  
He doesn't get it, does he? I wanted to be wrong! Doesn't he understand that by being right one more person was dead? She was a beautiful woman, too. She was at the bar and she was alive, she was the groupie that came up to Conchobar.  
  
I brought Conchobar in to the station and promptly had to let him walk. Not that I really thought he was the killer.   
  
I got to his apartment around 6:00 and he asked me which 6.  
  
"I was here all night having a party." He said with that infuriating smirk.  
  
"Oh good, then you have lot's of people that can tell me you were here?" I replied looking around at the stacked and empty beer bottles, thinking that my instincts about him were right, he was no killer.  
  
"Ah, no you see, it was a party of one." A note to self, do not try to verbally joust with a songwriter.   
  
So I took him to the station, Jake had the body thief right there and the guy couldn't ID Conchobar so I released him.   
  
Okay, what I don't understand is how in the world did Conchobar give me the slip so easily? Jake had a point about a rank civilian being able to lose a seasoned detective.  
  
What did Kenneth Irons say? A conundrum wrapped in an enigma? Well, close enough, I guess. Well he ruined the quote I might as well destroy it.  
  
Oh and speaking of Irons. I wonder how he got his name. Irons, isn't iron the one metal that is rumored to repel the Little People?  
  
Enough! I can't believe I brought up that tale Grandma used to tell me about the Little People of Ireland.  
  
***  
  
It's over.  
  
I had to play Goddess and I had him, damn it I had him! He was giving up, I had him and I was already thinking about which hospital to take him to!  
  
"Don't let it overwhelm your reasoning," Danny just said.  
  
"How in the Hell can I help but feel like a failure!" I shouted back at him. I mean I'm home now, in the privacy of my apartment, I can act as crazy as I want too.  
  
"Breathe, Sara, everything is connected." He calmly told me again. He keeps repeating himself like a broken record.  
  
"Don't over look important information because you thought you failed. You didn't. He was set to die as soon as he started thinking he was Conchobar." My wise dead guide said quietly knowing I'll stop ranting to listen to him.   
  
He knows me so well and I miss him so badly. And I feel like such a total failure for letting my suspect get killed right in front of me.  
  
'Breathe Sara, breathe, in and out, in and out, that's it." And I found myself listening to him and breathing in sync with his words....  
  
"The Shell!" The shell: the image of the bull on it popped into my mind and with the image Danny made himself scarce. It was the exact same image that was on the shell casing in my dad's things.  
  
I pulled out the box with Dad's stuff in it and find the shell casing again-but as much as I try, for some reason the WitchBlade was silent on the subject. The damn thing only works when it wants too, I guess.  
  
Though, I am struck by the memory of how easily Dante took the news that the suspect was murdered in custody.  
  
I am really beginning to have problems with my captain.  
  
The phone again....  
  
That was that blasted man wanting to know if his song helped.  
  
"How did you get my number?" I asked  
  
"Ye gave me your card, don't ye remember? Did your job finally render you mentally incompetent?" He laughed.  
  
I was left speechless for a few moments.  
  
"I was wondering if you wouldn't want to be my date to a party tonight?" He continued like he didn't just insult me. My mind acknowledging how his accent went from just barely noticeable to an inescapable brogue when he was flirting.  
  
"And how many people will be at this party?" I asked him back, okay so I was doing a little flirting of my own.  
  
"One, well if ye come that will be two." Then the cocky rouge added, "you have the address, see you in a an hour."  
  
I get one more vision of the two of us sword fighting and then making passionate love.  
  
Oh yeah, this thing does have some perks....  
  
End of entry 2  
  
  
  
Note from Author:  
  
I really want to thank all the people on FanFiction.Net--WitchBlade that gave me such positive feedback on the first chapter! Thank you all so very much!  
  
  



	3. Entry 3-Legion

Entry 3-Legion  
  
"Even the devil can quote the bible." Jake told me after demanding to be let into my world.  
  
What can I say Jake? Most of the time even I don't want to live in my world.  
  
Conchobar told me he felt like he was spilt in two.  
  
I knew what he meant.  
  
At least I know this thing on my wrist isn't evil. I have looked into the face of true evil and I felt humbled by its power. What was it like, to look the devil or maybe it was just one of his demons in his eyes?  
  
Terrifying.  
  
All this is just too deep for me-first I'm a goddess and now I'm fighting the devil?   
  
Give me a break, I'm just a cop trying to grab a little bit of happiness.  
  
Speaking of happiness-Conchobar-just thinking about him makes my toes curl in my shoes. To say he's a good lover.... Well, let's just say that's more information than I feel comfortable writing down.  
  
As I say I don't think the WitchBlade is evil, as much as it's indifferent. They say it always deserts the wearer in her darkest hour...could it be when she is the darkest? So many times I wanted to cross the line and choose not to do it, could it be that eventually I could become a "willing vessel?"  
  
"Cute little trick, Danny." I told him when he appeared a moment ago. I was referring to Friar Bellamy's visitation from beyond the grave.  
  
Father Bellamy. The leading expert on demonic possession in New York City--notice they didn't say the northeast, or America?  
  
"What does that mean, Danny?" I ask to thin air. Why does he always leave right when I need to ask him a question?  
  
Does it mean that evil is rampart? Does there need to be balance between the two? I don't know and those questions are just too deep for this simple cop.  
  
I want to be good; I want to make my father proud of me.  
  
Oh, there I go again-too deep; too deep warning my brain's going to explode!  
  
All I know is I'm going to be praying that old prayer dad used to make me say before bed each night, how did it go?  
  
"Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John bless the bed I lie upon. If I die before I wake I pray the lord my soul to take." My dad would hold me every night he didn't have to work and we would say it together, he would always say to imagine the angels and saints protecting me at night as I slept.  
  
I don't think I felt safe because of angels and saints, I felt safe because my father was holding me.  
  
Besides, if the visions are to believed this thing made Saint Joan the warrior she was-not god. And I'd rather not go there.   
  
I have to chuckle about Jake. The rookie demanding me to let him in let him be a part of the action. I have to admit that he did come up with the important clue, the clue that helped me piece everything together. Even if he didn't know the final outcome, he helped.  
  
Conchobar should be here in a few moments....  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
